Watching You
by angel-death-dealer
Summary: When Cate leaves, Nigel is left with a newborn son who's mother has deserted him. With his friends at his side, Nigel learns to be a father to his son and finds that it can bring the woman he's always loved right into his arms.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Alexander Nigel Bailey**

Nigel Bailey had many experiences with standing in a hospital corridor, thought none of them quite matched up to this one. He'd been five years old, running up and down the halls of the hospital near his hometown when his elder brother had broken his arm – an incredibly boring trip with lots of sitting around and waiting with his father while his mother sat in with Preston. He'd been seven years old, sitting in the emergency room with his mother because he'd fallen in the playground and broken his wrist. He'd been eleven years old, the year of The Accident, and they had been taken out of the car, into the hospital, checked while they asked again and again for their parents, and then asked to wait. They waited until their grandfather came to collect them, and that was the first time he really learnt that not everyone came home from the hospital, and that sometimes doctors couldn't fix things which were already too broken. Afterwards there had been a lull in the trip frequencies, just annual health checks and visits to the school nurse – until he'd come to Sydney's classroom for the first time and spent countless hours having concussions monitored and stitches sewn and sprains wrapped.

One thing he remembered very clearly was that things always moved quickly in hospitals, even when nothing was happening. Doctors rushed, nurses hurried, and the only thing that really stood still was the patients and the visitors. He'd come up with a theory that they moved faster depending how confused and concerned you were. Those with a helpless expression would frown at the hurrying blue scrubs and try to work out why everything was rushed, but it was obvious. Lives were at stake. Babies were being born. Lives ending, lives beginning, and they were responsible for them all. He'd be running around like a headless chicken if he were responsible for a dying patient or a mother in labour. He'd experienced pressure before, but that kind of pressure?

He felt a little helpless now. It was a lot like the visit for The Accident. He knew that something had happened when he had been sat down next to Preston in a side room on their own, and Preston, at fourteen, had looked considerably sadder than he had at eleven. Preston, he understood later, had known instantly what them being put aside meant. He knew from the moment Nigel joined him instead of a parent that they had not survived the crash that had miraculously spared the two younger Bailey's but not those they depended on.

Just like The Accident, Nigel now felt like something catastrophic had happened, and that something was going to change – a lot of things would change – but he wasn't sure what that next step should be, or the step after that, and especially not the one after that. Part of him was still waiting for the responsible adult to come in and hold his hand, telling him what was going to happen and that he didn't need to worry.

Snap out of it, Nigel, you're thirty-one years old.

He took a deep breath as he walked down a now-familiar corridor. He'd passed through it so many times in the past few months, but in the last three days he'd been here so many times it felt like a new home. He was starting to recognise the same people visiting, and able to pick out the newcomers. He'd formed his own attachment to the coffee machine just down the hall, though it was full of resentment that it wasn't nearly as good as the coffee he made for himself at the university, and their tea was considerably worse.

The clock was just past two o'clock when he walked into the nursery in the middle of the long hall. Two o'clock was feeding time for the babies in the nursery, and they had already been removed from what looked like a display room and taken to their mothers for feeding in the wards along the hall. There were only seven babies in the nursery at the moment, three less than the day before – five boys and two girls. In the far corner, one plastic crib remained in place, one child not taken to his mother for an afternoon feed. One child not welcomed into his mothers arms for that special connection. And that was why he was here. He was drawn to that lonely crib by a magnetism in his chest and had barely been staring down at its contents for a second before one of the nurses appeared at his side.

"Ready to feed him, Mr. Bailey?"

Him. His son. Nigel Bailey's tiny newborn son. His tiny newborn son that required feeding. His child was the child not welcomed by his mother. Unwelcome. Abandoned. Left behind. Unwanted. The last word stung at his tongue even though he'd not spoken it aloud. He nodded numbly, finding that he fell into the armchair in the corner of the room with much more ease than he had done during his last visit that morning. He supposed it was the few hours sleep that had refreshed him, but he waited anxiously for them to lift the bundle out of the bassinet and bring it to him. The tiny swaddled babe was laid in his arms, and he allowed him to squirm into a comfortable position for a moment.

"He's a bit fussy this afternoon," she warned him. "He seems better now though, I think he must have missed you! Kathy said you went home for the morning?"

Kathy was the nurse who had been on shift at the crack of dawn, the nurse who had told him that he was more exhausted than the mothers in labour and should probably get some sleep, considering the circumstances. "Just to shower and eat," he told her.

"I'm not surprised he missed you," she decided. "You've been here since he was born. Watching over him like a guardian angel."

He smiled and humoured the nurse, but he knew that it wasn't himself that the baby was missing. A child only suffered separation from one person at this age, and it wasn't himself. For all this child knew, he was just a stranger who had spent the most time with him. He mentioned this to Kathy yesterday, but she told him he was being foolish. A child knows their father, she said to him. They always know.

"Any news on...?" she trailed off, hesitating as if it weren't her place to ask, but he shook his head sadly. "Oh. Well, never you mind, sweetie. You'll be just fine. I promise you that."

He suspected otherwise, but she reminded him so much of his late grandmother that he just nodded along with her words, trying and failing to draw comfort from them. When she passed the perfectly warmed bottle of formula into his hand, though, he forgot all about his insecurities and focused on the baby in his arms. His baby. His son. His day old, still brand new son. His nameless son who was swaddled in just a diaper and a blue knitted blanket that he had bought only a week ago, his tiny head nestled into the crook of his arm. Feeding him had been scary yesterday when he had been so overwhelmed with everything, but now it was slightly less scary. It was comfortable to be sat with this warm child securely against him, as if he fit perfectly.

The nurses had told him the first time that the baby settled so easily into his arms because of the security that he would feel from them, but he hadn't believed them at the time as he'd been so frantic and panicked upon being presented with this wriggling dependence that he couldn't quite understand how there could be any security in his arms, but today he could understand it. He felt a strange confidence when he looked down at his child and an urge to protect that had never struck him before.

Once his son was fed and happier, he wanted to stay this way for as long as he could. They still had the room to themselves with the exception of the nurse replacing the bassinet liners and adding clean blankets to them, and he knew that he would not be ushered away for quite some time – the families loved to hold their children for as long as possible, many of them only sending their child to the nursery to sleep. He decided to lose himself in his son's eyes as they were open and looking around. He'd not seen much of them since the first time he'd been placed in his arms at seven thirty-two yesterday morning as he was more focused on screwing them closed to scream to high heaven, but now Nigel could see them clearly. His eyes were still a heavy dark blue, like a sky he'd once seen after a sunset in Thailand with Sydney. Beautiful and full of wonder, he considered whether they would fade to match his own or not. As their eyes met, he couldn't hold back his smile and he placed his hand on top of the blanket, holding him as securely as he could.

He felt pulled towards this child in a way that he'd only ever heard people talk about before. Completely helpless still, yet he couldn't describe it any other way than that he was so very much in love with his child. Part of him was still harbouring devastation and betrayal, but this tiny wonder in his arms dispelled all those emotions and he couldn't feel anything but amazed that he could have contributed to such a beautiful creation.

"Hey, Nige,"

He looked up from the baby, feeling the drag in his eyes against the movement, but smiled even more when he saw his best friend and mentor standing in the doorway of the nursery. Sydney Fox, glamorous as ever, stood against the door, the only person so far he'd seen without some ridiculous gift. She was still dressed for the hunt, but was clean and showered and had clearly been home for some time – and at this he could not hold his surprise.

"Syd, what are you doing here?" he spluttered. "You should be halfway down the White Nile..."

"Blue Nile, actually," she corrected him. "Last minute change of plan, and then another one, of course. Karen got a message to me at the hotel just before we left that Cate had gone into labour – did you really think I wouldn't be here as soon as I could?" she asked him, playfully scolding him for doubting it. As she came into the room, she took a seat on the arm of his chair, flinging her arm around his shoulder casually. "I would have been here sooner, I wanted to be, but I got caught on the connection and then Karen told me that I'd missed the birth and that you had the most gorgeous baby boy ever-"

"You're here now," he smiled. "I wasn't expecting you to be here for days, and really, having you here now is lovely."

She smiled back at him, and in a bold moment of friendship she kissed his cheek. "Congratulations, Nigel."

"Thanks, Syd."

She leaned against him a little and rested her face against the side of his so that they were both looking down at the baby. He tilted his arms so that she could see the wondrous piece of life he'd helped create. It was a very touching moment and were they focused on one another it would be highly intimate, but instead they were focused on the baby. "Oh, Nigel," she gasped.

"Perfect, isn't it?" he smiled proudly. "Here, hold him."

She didn't second guess the request as he had done when the child was first held out to him. He relinquished his spot in the centre of the chair and gave it to her, then passed the child into her arms. He didn't fell any hesitation in passing his baby to her, knowing that he was probably safer in Sydney's arms than his anyway. She stared at this baby he'd passed to her – his baby – and an overwhelming emotion came over her face. He'd never seen the look in her eyes before and it startled him.

"Did you ever see anything so precious?" she asked him.

The only time he'd seen a look similar, and heard such a tone in her voice, was when she found a relic she was particularly passionate about – something that she'd been searching for without interference of other hunters, something she was the first person to lay eyes on for hundreds, sometimes for thousands of years. "Considering the precious things you've seen, I'll take that as a compliment to my genetics."

"Seriously, Nigel, he's so beautiful! You made this!" she gushed.

"Six pounds, eleven ounces," he said. "Smaller than they thought he would be but perfectly healthy, they assure me. Ten fingers, ten toes, two very powerful lungs and a small birthmark on his right shoulder blade that matches mine."

After his quick summary of his son, they sat in silence. He sat on the arm of the chair and leaned over as she had done with him moments before, and the baby stared up at them contently. Eventually, the baby turned his head ever so slightly towards Sydney and settled into sleep within moments. Sydney made some strange noise that he'd often heard woman make over babies in this nursery. "I know I've said it already," she whispered, "but he's so beautiful! His little nose, and his eyes, and those tiny little lips and his ears...Nigel, you must be so proud."

"I am," he smiled, but she didn't look away from the baby to see the smile fade. "I just wish that..."

She put one hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about Cate. Karen told me."

"I'm not sorry," he said stiffly. "She didn't want this, Syd. I should have seen that before now. She didn't want..."

He sighed heavily and she leaned against him. She couldn't put her arms around him on account of holding the baby so this would have to do. Her head fell on his shoulder just as his arm fell onto hers. "It'll be ok, Nigel," she said softly.

"How could she not want him, Syd?" he asked, the devastation returning to his tone. "How could she take one look at him and not fall in love with him? She didn't hold him, she barely looked at him...she didn't even come and see him before she left this morning."

Sydney leaned her head right against his shoulder, so that they were now positioned like a perfect family, though this was far from either of their minds – Sydney cradling the baby in the middle of them, with Nigel holding his arm around her, holding them both to him in an image of protection. Anyone who looked into the nursery would surely see a brand new family with their child.

Karen had filled her in over the phone as to Cate's actions, and the cab driver had been shocked at the expletives Sydney had used. It had all started last October, when after a one night stand with Nigel, something that would always be a moment of weakness for him, Cate had fallen pregnant. They hadn't been thrilled about the circumstance and Cate hadn't been planning on keeping the baby, but when she'd been to tell Nigel about it he had been excited about being a father, and promised that he would be there for her and the baby even though they agreed that having a relationship as well wasn't the best idea for them. He'd gone with her to every doctors appointment and with her due date coinciding with Sydney's latest adventure to Egypt he had opted to stay behind, and luckily so.

But once the baby was born, Cate had changed her mind. While Nigel was being shown how to cut the umbilical cord, she had been deciding to leave the hospital without either of them. When they tried to pass her the baby, she insisted that Nigel hold his son first. When Nigel showed her the tiny miracle they'd made, she felt nothing but guilt and resentment. When she had let the nurses take the baby up to the nursery, she told Nigel that she had changed her mind, that she couldn't give up her job to care for a baby, that she had no desire in her to be a mother, and that she was planning to give full parental custody to Nigel.

Just like that, his life had been turned upside down. His ex-lover and the mother of his child no longer wanted the baby she had carried for nine months – his baby. Was there any higher rejection? Cate had been discharged that morning and had left the hospital without her baby. Nigel had remained in the nursery after hours of pleading with her which had been futile. She'd made up her mind. She said that she'd looked into it and that they wouldn't legally let her make that decision until the child (she'd said it with such professionalism that he almost hated her for that alone) was at least forty-eight hours old, and so she would contact him then. Until then, he was waiting for her to come back and change her mind again.

So when he was not even six hours old, the baby had already lost a mother and his father had realised that nothing would change his mothers mind. Nigel had stayed at the nursery until sleep was finally claiming him in those uncomfortable chairs, waiting for Cate to reappear, convinced that she could not leave a child they had created together with such ease. But now, a day later, he was doubting that, and at seven thirty-two tomorrow morning Cate's decision could be made official. He could only sit and wait to hear, and that was heartbreaking. The hope was fading every time he looked at his son. His baby. His, and his only.

Well, wasn't that a terrifying thought?

"She's a fool, Nigel," Sydney assured him. "But some people just aren't cut out for parenting. There could have been any reason for it."

"But he's so..." he trailed off, looking at his son. "I didn't like leaving him for five hours this morning to go home and shower, but she just left altogether..."

"It'll be ok," she repeated. "He still has you."

"But he doesn't have a mother, Sydney," he expressed.

"He'll have the greatest dad in the world," she continued. "Because no one can ever appreciate this miracle like you can, no one in the world will ever love him the way that you do, and he'll have Auntie Sydney and Auntie Karen to spoil him rotten," she cooed the last part at the sleeping baby. "This little guy is going to be the new university heart-throb, I expect."

"I've been replaced by my own son," he realised.

"Women love nothing more than a man holding a cute baby," she told him. "It makes them weak in the knees on account of ovaries exploding with broodiness."

He glanced down at her. "Is that what makes that combination of 'aww' and 'please impregnate me immediately' when you hold a baby?"

"It's biological," she defended. "But regardless, he's perfect and you are going to be a wonderful father."

"I'll have to be, I suppose."

She ignored his bitterness, and paid her attention to the arm that he slung across her shoulders. With the arm that wasn't cradling the baby she reached up and entwined her fingers through his. This time he couldn't ignore the intimacy – it was entwined fingers, not clasped hands, and yet he found himself clinging to her slender digits. "You're not alone, Nigel. I know it must feel like it, but you're not alone."

"My son no longer has a mother, Syd," he said, choking out the words. "When I think about my mother, for however short a time I had her, I can't imagine not having that time with her. He'll never know that love...and I haven't got any furniture for him in my home, let alone a room! It was decided that he would live with Cate, I was just going to get travel bits for my house for when he stayed...he has nothing to come home to. At this point he doesn't even have a home. I have nothing for him there. He was supposed to live with Cate."

"Then you'll buy him what he needs," she told him.

"And leave him here?"

Sydney understood his reluctance to leave the baby, especially after what Cate did. She stood from the chair, unwinding their fingers and placing the baby back in his arms. The baby stirred and reached a tiny hand out of the blankets with a gurgle. The gurgle soon turned into a cry and Nigel began to pace the floor with the grizzling baby. His cries were still weak and feeble, but no doubt this boy would have a healthy scream on him. It was quiet enough that they could speak over his cries.

"I'll sort the room," Sydney offered.

Nigel looked up sharply at her. "Syd, I can't ask you-"

"You're not asking, I'm offering," she cut him off. "You don't want to be apart from him right now, and you're right about staying here – you should be here in case Cate comes back. And if she doesn't come back, then you need to be here at the forty-eight hour mark to make whatever decisions are necessary. I'll make sure at that point you have a room to bring your baby home to. Karen can help me, I'm sure she'll love the shopping."

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Really, Syd, that would be a tremendous help. I won't expect you to pay for it, you can take my credit card."

"I intend to," she smiled. "But Karen and I want to buy a gift each anyway, so it's the perfect opportunity to do so. Before I hit the shops, though, I need to know what this gorgeous boys name is."

That stumped him. A name. He had yet to name the boy. He was convinced that he needed to wait for Cate to name him.

"Ah," he mumbled.

"You didn't decide on a name for him before...?"

"No," he shook his head. "We had a deal. I would name her if she was a girl, and Cate would name him if it was a boy."

Sydney smiled. "What did you chose?"

"Elizabeth," he said immediately. "My mother's name."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes, but not quite fitting for a boy," he smiled slightly.

"Well, what about your father's name?" she asked. "What was he called?"

"Bailey's have a tradition, apparently, of naming their first born after themselves," he explained. "My father's name was Preston Bailey, so I don't quite fancy that. Although I'm one for tradition, I don't want to name him Nigel either."

She smiled at the thought. "His name should have a wonderful meaning, something of significance."

"Yes," he agreed.

There was a silence, as every name they discovered came up with a counter – a man who'd betrayed them, a man who had ratted them out...and then as his son stopped bawling and he found himself holding him out before him so that he could look at his face, the name came to him.

"Alexander," he whispered.

Sydney looked at them, at how tenderly he held and gazed upon his child. "Alexander?" she questioned.

"Many great men have been named Alexander," he justified. "Alexander the Great, Alexander, Alexander Polyhistor, Alexander Fleming, Alexander Graham Bell, Alexander Pope..."

She smiled, and rose to stand beside him. "And now, Alexander Nigel Bailey."

"Nigel?" he questioned, frowning.

"You have to keep some tradition," she shrugged. "Now, give the gorgeous boy to me so we can test out the name." Without waiting, she relieved him of the boy and cradled him against her shoulder. "Alexander Nigel Bailey," she whispered. "Alex." He gurgled against her and she grinned at him. "See, he likes it! Name decided." Nigel smiled back at her, pleased that he had got the first part of parenthood right, and he continued to smile as Sydney rocked his child and whispered to him in that broody voice that was so unlike her, yet so amusing to watch. "You're going to be so spoiled, Alex. So very spoiled. I'm addicted to you already and I never liked babies before, so that automatically makes you my favourite baby ever. And don't tell your father but I think you might be my favourite Bailey too-"

"Hey!" Nigel protested. "I worked hard to earn the title of favourite, and he takes it from me within ten minutes of you meeting him?"

She shrugged. "Sorry, Nige, but he's just so adorable. I just want to hold him and never let him go, he's so perfect."

"Each step of evolution is greater than the one before. At least I've created a more superior Bailey."

But Sydney had gone back to fussing over the baby. "..and you're going to be so very smart, just like your father, because he'll read you all these amazing books and tell you wonderful stories and he'll take you to the most beautiful places in the world..."

_We_, he was correcting in his head. _We_ will read you amazing books. _We_ will tell you wonderful stories. And _We_ will take you to the most beautiful places.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the amazing response to the first chapter! I wasn't expecting so many reviews, it's lovely to read them all. Hopefully you'll all like this chapter as much! If you want updates as to where I am with my writing and when to expect new posts, follow me on twitter on theloveinsideus **

**Chapter Two: Welcome Home**

Forty-eight hours came and went, and at fifty hours, the nurses told him that baby Alexander was officially in his custody and his responsibility. He filled in the birth certificate, still putting Cate's name in as the mother, of course, and then told the registrar the name he and Sydney had chosen for the boy. Alexander Nigel Bailey. It was now official. He never imagined that he would be naming a child with Sydney (well, that was a lie, but it had been a long time ago that he had those thoughts), but he was glad that she knew him well enough to know the kind of name that he wanted for his son. The more he spoke the three words, he was a little more proud of Nigel being his middle name. He didn't understand how his own father had looked at his eldest child and thought to himself 'yes, this boy is as perfect as me, he shall have my name' because he didn't consider Alexander to be anywhere near his own perfection levels – he was soaring above them.

This baby had no insecurities, no nerves, and no qualms about speaking up. He cried when he was hungry, he cried when he was uncomfortable or wet, he cried when he just wanted attention. He knew what he wanted and was not afraid to develop his lungs to make sure he got it. He had been born with a confidence that all babies had, with no one ever having told him 'no' yet, no one had ever spoken down to him or made him feel like he wasn't good enough at anything. He was tiny, and perfect, and loved.

Nigel had not seen Sydney since the previous afternoon, but just as the nurse was giving him his final crash course in bathing Alex, she returned, watching from the doorway as Nigel picked up his son and cradled the towel-wrapped, angry child against his shoulder. Apparently bath time was not an activity he enjoyed. He calmed quickly though when he realised that the bath was over and it was then that Nigel turned to see his friend in the doorway. He smiled at her, but she gave him a sad smile in return.

"She didn't come back?" she asked quietly, stepping up beside him. He just shook his head, and she laid her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Nige,"

"Don't be," he told her, with more assurance than he really had. "It would be worse if she'd stayed and resented him for it."

"Yeah," she agreed. "So...um...you may not want to look at your next credit card statement," she told him carefully. "Neither will Karen and I...or Claudia."

"Claudia's here?" he asked, ignoring the first statement.

"No, we called her and she sent some bits over, had them shipped overnight from New York. She gets some vacation time in a few months once the fashion rush is over, she wants to come visit and meet the baby then. I send her a photo on my phone yesterday and she's so pleased for you Nigel, she thinks he's so beautiful."

He nodded. "So how much, roughly, am I in debt by?"

"Don't think of it that way," she told him. "Think of it that your son now has an amazing bedroom with everything that he needs for when he comes home."

He smiled, sighing. "Thank you for helping out, Syd. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, it was fun," she told him. "I'm not sure who got asked when they were due more often, me or Karen, but quite a few people commented on how great I was looking."

"Why would they do that?" he asked.

"When we were buying the bed sheets for the crib and we asked for blue they asked how we knew it was a boy, and I said that he'd been born the day before and we needed to get him something to come home to, and the woman told me that I looked in fantastic shape for giving birth a day before."

Despite himself, Nigel laughed. "Thank you, Syd."

"So when does the little guy get to come home?" she asked, leaning in close to his shoulder to say hello to the now content baby.

"Now the bath is over, as soon as they bring me the release paperwork, which should be in about ten minutes," he told her, suddenly nervous again. "Then it's just the two of us, no nurses to cover my back."

"You don't need them," Sydney said confidently.

"No, I really do," he told her.

"Nigel, you'll be fine," she assured him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "All new parents go through a struggle, but you're going to be no different from the rest of them."

He smiled slightly. "You really think so?"

She gave him a falsely exasperated look. "How many times am I going to have to tell you that you'll be a wonderful father?"

"Just enough for it to sink it," he smirked back at her. "Now, if you want to hold your favourite Bailey, I'll make sure his things are ready to go."

Despite his jibe at Alex being her favourite Bailey, which she'd insisted the previous day that she was, she could scarcely had picked up the boy faster. "He looks different already," she cooed softly. "Looks less like an old man and more like a tiny person."

"He is a tiny person," Nigel defended.

But Sydney wasn't listening, she had gone over to the chair in the corner and seemed to be having an intense staring contest with his baby son while she mumbled away to him. Alex seemed to enjoy this, so she continued. He packed up the bag and readied the car seat for them to leave, all that was needed now was the nurse to bring the paperwork and for Alex to go into the car seat, and then it was time to leave. Time for him to be the grown up responsible adult who knew what he was doing – and in the absence of actually being that person, he had to find the confidence to fake it.

When he was finished, he stood holding the car seat and looked at Sydney. She held his son with such care, he knew that she had a delicate touch when it came to relics and things of historical value, but he had always wondered just how much of that delicate touch she applied to people as well. True, she was his best friend, and she knew when he needed a hug, and when simple contact like a hand on the shoulder would do, but it didn't take a genius to see that the way she held his baby was different. At that moment, Alex was the most important thing in her world, he could see that by the way that her arms encased him so securely – any man would enjoy being in her arms like that, even one who was two days old.

She looked up at him and smiled, and before he could speak everything happened to quickly. The nurse came in with the release paperwork and a last bag of supplies for him and then everything was signed and he was nothing more than a guest in the hospital. Neither of them belonged there anymore, not him or Alex, but instead they were thrust upon the world with a good luck and goodbye. He turned towards Sydney, time to announce that they were going home, but he couldn't find himself to say the words.

And as always, when his words failed him, Sydney found them again. She looked at him with a bright smile. "Time to go?"

He nodded numbly and made the awkward transition from Sydney's arms to the car seat.

* * *

><p>Turns out, Alex hates the car seat. Alex hates the sound of road diggers. Alex hates dogs barking, and car alarms, and moving cars, and anyone trying to comfort him while any of the above present themselves. It was an eighteen minute car journey from Hell, filled with the sounds of a baby crying who had not yet found his lungs. True, the cry was loud, but it was holding back – the kind of cry that in three weeks time would make getting in a car unbearable. He wasn't sure how Sydney managed to drive safely with all the noise, but reminded himself that she was wonderful under pressure, whereas he was just dreadful. He was trying to train himself – keeping his eyes on the road while keeping track of the baby in the backseat, but every time Alex made a new sound Nigel was whipping round in the seat and half climbing into the back to see what it meant. He was probably more of a driving obstacle than Alex's noise functions.<p>

But when they pulled up at home – now a proper home, not just an apartment, he had settled peacefully and was fast asleep again. He looked up at the apartment block before him, a relatively small block of twelve apartments, one of which on the second floor was his own. It had said on the ad that it was two bedrooms, but the second bedroom was scarcely more than a cupboard he'd managed to fit a desk and a bookshelf into, so he was curious to say the least about how Sydney and Karen had managed to decorate a bedroom for his son. Perhaps they'd thrown a blanket in the 'second bedroom' and moved Alex into his own room? No, surely they'd not be that cruel to him. Not that he wouldn't do that, of course, to give his son somewhere to sleep. Of course he would. He'd do anything for this boy.

"Nigel?" Sydney asked, as she came to stay before him after locking up the car. "Everything ok?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Isn't my apartment a bit small for a baby?" he mused.

"Yes," Sydney said instantly. "Incredibly too small, I didn't think of that. In fact, you better just take him back to the hospital."

Nigel whipped his head round to her and found that she was grinning at him. He frowned. "That's not funny, Syd."

She continued grinning. "Come on, we want to show you what we've done!"

"We?" he questioned.

* * *

><p>Karen was waiting up in the apartment, presumably having used Sydney's spare key that had never been used until his son's arrival. Similarly, his credit card hadn't been used in at least six months, having paid it off finally after some emergency expenses on a hunt in Saudi Arabia which the university insisted were not essential and hadn't reimbursed him for. Sydney had apologised and offered to pay him back, but she was the one who usually footed the bill on the non-reimbursed payments so he'd stood his ground.<p>

The apartment was instantly looking cleaner than he had left it in. Although, he had left it in the middle of preparing meal when Cate had called to say she was on the way to the hospital. He was pleased to see with a quick glance into the kitchen revealed that one of them had disposed of the half cooked noodles he was warming on the stove when he got the call. The whole apartment looked cleaner – they'd vacuumed, dusted, even done all the small jobs that were usually overlooked – women's touches, he thought to himself. It had an air of women's touches.

Karen fussed over the baby in the car seat, overjoyed at seeing the little boy and gushing over how much he did look like Nigel. It was uncanny, but everyone was pleased that for now the baby showed no signs of resembling the woman who abandoned him at birth. Plus, how cute was a tiny Nigel going to be, they kept pointing out. Even Nigel had to admit, until the 'Podge' phase had set in, he had been an adorable child. Before anything else could be said or could happen, Nigel found himself pulled towards the bedroom they'd created – instantly realising that they had chosen the 'second bedroom' for Alex's room.

Karen opened the door, and Sydney led Nigel in with his hands over his eyes. He stepped carefully, knowing that his baby was snuggled in his arms and the last thing he wanted to do was trip over, but Sydney wouldn't let that happen. In what would be three steps into the room, she uncovered his eyes and he opened them to look around him. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, not even a breath escaping him. Alex gurgled in his arms, but was still asleep, but even then he didn't move. He just looked around him, taking in the room that they had created.

It looked larger than before, the desk and bookshelf had been removed – to where he was yet to discover, and the room had been painted in two shades of blue – pale blue on three walls and a navy blue on the length of the wall to his left. On the walls were white painted designs, he assumed stencils, of animals – animals everywhere in the room, actually! The walls were adorned with monkeys swinging from branches, giraffes picking at the leaves and elephants walking a line along the new pale blue carpeting for a border. In between there were parrots with wide wings, sloths with dopey smiles and tigers peeking through some painted grass. In the middle of the animals on the navy blue wall was some three dimensional lettering in another shade of blue, spelling out a single word.

Alexander. His son's name.

His son's room.

The window had been covered with a blackout roller blind in the same navy blue as the wall. Beside the window, in one tiny corner of the room was a plump armchair – he recognised it from one of the baby stores as a baby feeding chair, something mainly designed for breastfeeding mothers, but somewhere he could also sit in his child's room to feed him. It was an off-white colour, not unlike the colour of the painted animals on the wall, and fit perfectly in the pale blue corner of the room. Beside the chair was the smallest of shelves which was currently empty void of some baby books that he was sure he hadn't owned before.

On the wall beside him was a small chest of drawers and wardrobe unit, the drawer space not covered so it was more of a shelving unit, but it revealed the piles of clothes which had been folded and hung in the unit – some he recognised as ones that he had bought for his son to be kept at his apartment, but others were new – the majority, actually. Most of the hanging items looked too large, but the boy would grow into them – a winter coat, folded trousers, all in ones, pyjama sets, small t-shirts, then there were bibs, gloves, a large variety of hats in all sizes, blankets piled in one part of the unit in a variety of blues and whites. On top of the shelving unit in the room was a changing area, with a jungle themed changing mat already resting on top. In the corner was a space where diapers and wipes had been piled.

But the room's main feature, of course, was the crib, a deep rich mahogany crib – the same one Sydney had caught him admiring online a few months back. He'd shrugged it off when she asked him about it, saying that while it was nice, he only needed the travel things in his apartment because the baby was going to live with Kate – but there it was. The crib he had, in his mind, chosen for his son to sleep in. The curves of the corners were the same, the outer side had been lowered so that he could easily see the beautiful bedding set that matched the walls as well – clearly they had invested in a wonderful room set. A matching mobile with white animals also hung over the bed and was swinging gentle as if Karen had finished setting it up only a short while before they came home.

All this work in a day. His son's first bedroom painted and decorated and built in a day, by his Auntie Syd and Auntie Karen – obviously the most important women in his lives, he realised. It was a beautiful bedroom, despite its size. The size didn't seem to matter anymore. It was a bedroom with everything that he needed, besides, he was only tiny himself and didn't need a large bedroom to fit things in.

He went to stand further in the room and overlooked the crib, one hand falling away from Alex so that he could run his hand over the rail. As he looked down, he could see himself coming in here every night and putting his son to bed.

"Syd, Karen..." he started quietly, but words failed him for a moment. He turned to face them and found them both waiting anxiously in the doorway still. "This is amazing!" he spluttered out. "Really, it's wonderful."

"You really like it?" Karen asked.

"I love it!" he gushed. "It's...it's perfect. It's everything he needs...everything I wanted for him."

As he grinned at them, Alex started to wake up in his arms, craning his fragile neck over Nigel's elbow. Nigel returned his hand to the back of his head. "This is your bedroom," he mumbled to the boy. "Your very own room that Auntie Syd and Auntie Karen made for you."

"Not just us," Syd told him. "We had a hell of a time getting this crib in time for you to come home. Claudia pulled some strings for us with that, and she supplied a lot of the clothes – apparently some of it isn't even in stores until Christmas."

That didn't surprise him at all. "Any crib would have been ok," he said softly.

Sydney shook her head. "You loved this crib," she shrugged, as if that were reason enough.

They showed him the rest of the apartment in a blur, eagerly pointing out all the additions in the house. In the closet beside the front door was a folded travel system – containing a three-in-one travel system of the car seat that Alex had come home in, one that appeared compact enough that he could put in the back of his car and get around quiet well with too. In the bathroom another shelf had been added above the bath beneath one containing his hair shampoo and cleaners, and this new one held a variety of baby shampoos, cradle cap shampoo and towels and flannels. Also sat in the bath was a ocean-themed seat which attached to the bottom of the tub – a baby could be sat in it, Karen explained, and they wouldn't risk falling under the water and it also gave Nigel more hands to be able to clean him though worrying about how he was holding him in the water. In the kitchen a variety of bottles was beside a steriliser that sat on the worktop – it fit in the microwave, Sydney told him – and in the far corner of the small kitchen was a collapsible highchair that would suit Alex from birth, she assured him.

It had never felt more like a home.

In his bedroom, his bed had been pushed up against one wall, rather than standing in the middle – it didn't matter to him, he only slept on one side anyway. Along the wall on the far side was a moses basket on a stand, something for Alex to sleep in for the first few months until he was ready to sleep in that wonderful crib. The moses basket was the same one that he had selected and paid for himself, but now it was on a stand that put him at the same level as the bed. He dreaded to think how much money the four of them had spent on restructuring his house of the baby, but at least everything was there. Everything was ready, and his son had come home to a home, not just an apartment with things. A real home.

They returned to the living room, where Karen offered to change the baby. She got excited about using the new changing mat in the bedroom and disappeared off, the whole time the others listened to her cooing and laughing away at the gurgling baby – Alex seemed to be rather chatty with Karen. Nigel collapsed onto the couch, digging his arm behind him to retrieve the small blue bear he had fallen on. This had been the first thing he purchased when he found out that they were having a boy. Actually, the first thing he had bought at all. This was what he was going to give to Alex to take him to Cate's house so that he would always have something there of his father, even when Nigel wasn't able to be around.

Sydney handed him a mug of tea, which he hadn't even been aware of her making, and sat down beside him. "So, you like everything?" she asked again.

"I love it all," he repeated, not taking his eyes off the bear until he felt her lean her head against his shoulder to look at it from the same position. "Really, Syd. I can't thank you all enough. Without you three..."

"It was fun," she mused. "I think I'm going to like spoiling my new favourite Bailey."

"Oh, so I was your favourite at some point then?" he teased.

"Of course," she assured him, leaning back against the couch. "It was either you or Preston. Not a difficult choice." Nigel leaned back and started to drink his tea. "Have you called Preston? Does he know?"

Nigel shook his head. "Telling you and Karen was bad enough, I don't want to hear one of his 'brotherly' lectures right now."

"You think he'll lecture you for stepping up and taking care of your son?" Sydney asked.

"No, he'll lecture me for trusting Cate in the first place," he said. "When I told him I was going to be a father, he asked me if I was going to get a DNA test to prove that Cate was telling me the truth."

Sydney scoffed at the idea. "Well, one look at that baby disproves the need for any kind of test."

"It's strange seeing him look so much like me," Nigel mused, then a thought dawned on him. "I should call Claudia and thank her."

"I'm sure she'll understand if you don't do it straight away," Sydney shrugged.

Nigel raised an eyebrow. "This is Claudia."

She laughed. "Ok, maybe not. So, how does it feel, bringing a baby home?"

"You really want to know?" he asked.

"I might not get to do this myself, so I'm living through you," she told him with a strange smile. "Yes, I want to know."

He let out a shuddering breath. "It's terrifying. I mean, those nurses don't know me at all and they trust me to bring that fragile little person home and look after him..."

A strange movement on Sydney's part sent a flutter through him – she was laying her head on his shoulder. Had she ever done that before? He didn't think so. He was afraid to move, because it felt nice and if he moved or mentioned it she might move away. Then again, she was likely to do so as soon as Karen came back with the baby anyway. He decided to just remain still and enjoy it.

"I trust you, Nige," she told him softly.

"Thanks," he mumbled back.

Karen came back into the room with a clean baby and went to hand him back to Nigel but Sydney's enthusiastically outstretched arms got there first. "I want to hold him, it's my turn!" she exclaimed like a young girl, and plucked the little boy into her own arms. When she was comfortable with Alex in her arms again, she leaned back against Nigel, not as completely as before though. "There's Auntie Syd's favourite little boy," she cooed.

"And Auntie Karen's," Karen agreed.

"Am I _anyone's_ favourite anymore?" Nigel asked. "I don't even think I'm Alex's favourite."

**A/N: Once again, thanks for the reviews (and many more please, it makes me update faster :D ) and remember - theloveinsideus!**


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